The Dark Elite (The Dark Elite 1)

A flood of memories assault my still-fuzzy brain, and I fight for calm, letting the initial wave of panic pass—the knowing that I can’t get out, that I’m trapped. The adrenaline and emotions of escaping from the men’s house comes rushing back, followed by Brian’s betrayal. It all hits me like a damn wrecking ball, and I’m overwhelmed with fear and confusion.

But I can’t wallow in those emotions.

They won’t help me right now.

Focus, Grace, focus.

I’ve escaped once before. I can escape again. I need confidence right now, because terror isn’t going to keep me alive.

I pull against the ropes binding my wrists together, testing the strength of the ties. Brian’s tied me well, but his mistake dawns on me in an instant. I may have filled him in on some of my past earlier tonight, but there are still plenty of things he doesn’t know about me.

He doesn’t know that tying my arms behind my back isn’t an effective way of holding me.

When I was nine, I broke my arm. It’s not that uncommon for a young kid who likes to rough and tumble to break a bone, but mine was pretty bad. Though it healed well, it left the shoulder socket permanently weakened. Hale and Ciro were there when I fell out of the tree and broke my arm, and it’s a story Zaid and Lucas heard more than once during our teenage years. All four of those men know my history well enough to know never to bind me like this.

One… two… three.

With a trained motion I’ve only had to use a few times in my life, I hold my breath and jerk my shoulder, popping it out of the socket.

Holy.

Fuck!

Pain shoots through my shoulder and down my arm, and I bite down hard on my lower lip to suppress a scream. But now my shoulder is loose in the socket, leaving me with the ability to work my hands under my butt and legs. I flinch at the pain, but once I get my bound hands in front of me, I’m able to use my teeth on the heavy ropes at my wrists.

I work as quickly as I can, biting and tugging at the ropes. My wrists were raw and chafed already, and they burn with every bit of friction as I slowly work them free of the binds.

But I do it.

My teeth hurt from biting so hard on the ropes, and my breath is coming in short gasps by the time I manage to free myself. I give myself another quick countdown before popping my shoulder back into place, swearing under my breath.

Motherfucker.

It hurts like a bitch to do, and I have to wait for the wave of pain to ease, but I’m suddenly thankful for a hot summer day thirteen years ago when little me wanted to prove Hale wrong. Wanted to climb higher than him, or any of the boys.

I pant for air in the claustrophobic trunk, catching my breath and contemplating my next move. Before I come up with anything solid, the car rolls to a slow stop. A second later, the engine shuts off, and I know I only have seconds to make a choice.

I can’t tell what’s going on outside of the trunk, but I hear a door thud closed as Brian gets out. Gravel crunches beneath heavy feet. His phone rings, and then his muffled voice filters through the lid of the trunk.

“What?” There’s a pause. “Yeah. I got her. No trouble at all. She ran right into my arms.” There’s amusement in his tone, and it makes my stomach turn over. “I’m about to—” He pauses again. “Yeah. What? Goddammit. Yeah, fine.”

His footsteps shuffle over the gravel again, and his voice grows muffled. I shift in the trunk, straining to keep listening, but I’m only able to pick up small snippets.

“…need to get out of here before…”

“…drop payment at the…”

“…at Calvin’s…”

A few moments later, he stops speaking altogether, and his footsteps return, growing louder as they near the car. He sticks a key into the trunk, and my pulse leaps. I quickly position myself to make it look like I’m still bound, clasping my hands behind my back.

When the door lifts and his face is revealed, I blink up at him. I’m groggy and sluggish, but I try to appear even more out of it than I am, fluttering my eyelashes weakly as I tilt my head to meet his

gaze.

He smirks, reaching down to pull me out of the car.

A mistake.